


Mistakes

by Poplitealqueen



Series: Marco Polo Drabbles [2]
Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: Family Issues, Feelings, Gen, M/M, Taking a closer look at all those Jingco moments from Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/pseuds/Poplitealqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Jingim has a habit of making mistakes when it comes to the Latin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm convinced these two are one horse ride and sad backstory episode away from either becoming the closest of brothers, or banging each other all the way to the mouth of the Yangtze.
> 
> So read it as gen or shipping. Personally, I think it could go either way. You know, just as long as they have that wonderful tension.

His first mistake is allowing the Latin to defend him.

Cousin Kaidu's words sting, and Jingim knows he's about to make another mistake when he stands.

But he doesn't _care._ Wuchang still feels like a festering wound in his mind, and he would do anything to rectify it. To see his father proud and that damning expression wiped from his cousin's face.

No one else says a word, not even Byamba, when Kaidu baits him to enter the wrestling ring. They fear any repercussions, from Kaidu or the prince.

Afterwards, Jingim suspects it was more the airag talking than the Latin. He can't say why the thought upsets him, and resolves not to dwell on the foreigner further. Unless absolutely necessary.

 ***

His second slip up is calling him Marco.

_"How did you come to name your son?"_

Jingim asks out of honest curiosity which quickly turns to rage - a rage he himself doesn't quite understand - as he slams the Latin's father into the wall of his cell.

The smuggler is a groveling, quivering mess brimming with excuses and explanations,  _nothing_ likethe Latin that has burrowed his way into the Khan's head like an earwig. Master Polo doesn't even resemble him, something that Jingim can relate to; he looks nothing like his own father either.

The thought only infuriates him further. The idea that he has anything in common with the Latin.

He rages at the smuggler in a way that Master Polo never would, and he feels good for it. Yet as he leaves, he can't help but attempt to save face.

"Never the matter," he says flatly. _"_ Marco will fall and you with him."

 ***

The next is that damnable crucifix.

Jingim doesn't mean to keep it at first. It's a cumbersome, ugly thing inscribed with holy words he finds unsettling.

But somehow, even after the hearing, it remains tucked in his sash. He sums it up to having a reason to visit the Latin later. To gloat, nothing more.

Master Polo looks nothing like his father and uncle did in their cell. His eyes are unwavering and green like the Steppes. He is defiant, foolishly so, but Jingim will admit he's more impressed than irritated. Better men have broken when their life is measured only by the light of a window.

He won't admit he feels pity when he offers the unpleasant little trinket to the Latin. Won't admit that that it is jealousy that causes him to recount the story of his first hunt, because the fact that what took him years to build with his father, this foreigner has been gifted in mere _months_  weighs in his belly like a stone. He can hardly believe he's voicing his doubts from that time to the Latin. It leaves him feeling vulnerable and...relieved?

He finds he might actually miss the Latin once he's gone.

Jingim isn't surprised when Master Polo refuses his cross, even if the reasoning is strange. He's proven to be as stubborn as any Mongol, after all.

 ***

His third mistake comes in the guise of certainty.

He is certain the Latin is a fake. Feels it in his very being. He raises his sword partly for the insult to the Khan...but mostly for the insult towards himself.

Does the Latin mock him, he wonders, as swords slash and sing against one another. Mock the fact that the Khan trusts him more than his trueborn heir? Or does he pity him? The Latin knows what it means for a father to brush away a son, after all. The smuggler hadn't even bothered to name him.

The thought makes his Mongol blood roar, and Jingim wants nothing more than the chance to run his blade through this Traitor's gut before the Southern rebels get the privilege. He wants to silence the voice that keeps telling him they really aren't all that different - that urges him to wrap his arms around the Latin and apologise for things that aren't even his fault.

Perhaps that's what causes him to lose. Jingim will never know, and he doesn't linger long enough to find out. He hopes the broiling wrath he carries will stay with him until the battle.

 ***

His last error is hardly an error at all.

The Latin stoops over his cart after the battle, looking down at Jingim with what the prince would've almost called a smug look, if he wasn't silently thanking the Eternal Blue Sky that Master Polo still breathed. For a moment, Jingim's world is filled with the green of the Steppes even in this southern land. He appreciates that sight more than the words the Latin gives him.

Jingim finds his hand infuriatingly shaky as it reaches up, but the Latin quickly curls his own around it to still the tremors. His grip is strong.

The words feel right as he says them: "Peace to you... _brother."_


End file.
